gravity
by maison de neener
Summary: AU. Axel is a soul collector, who neglects his duties and is sent to Earth for 30 days as punishment. But when he meets Roxas, an ordinary student, his 'punishment' doesn't seem so unfair anymore. AxelRoxas, slash, side pairings. rated for swearing
1. prologue: flat line

_**gravity  
**_by neener

This is my first attempt at Kingdom Hearts fanfiction, slash in general, and Axel/Roxas. I saw this movie a few weeks ago called The Soul Collector, starring Bruce Greenwood, that was on the Lifetime channel. It was pretty corny, but my muse is silly and so I had to write this. It will be Axel/Roxas, as well as some other side pairings. This story is extremely AU. In it, Axel is a soul collector, which is basically like a Grim Reaper – he guides dead people's spirits to heaven, and if he doesn't do his job, they go back into their bodies. There are hundreds of soul collectors, because just one person couldn't do the job, it would be too hard! I know it sounds a little confusing, but it will all be explained. Enjoy, and be sure to review!! The next chapter should be up soon.

* * *

**prologue: flat line**

Eric Bradshaw was dead.

Axel picked up his playing cards.

* * *

"I think you're cheating," the blonde woman announced, leaning over the poker table and frowning.

Axel slid his chips forward. "Who, me? Of course not." He leaned back, a smirk playing mischieviously on his face. "All in."

"You're bluffing," the older man directly opposite him said. The teenager on the couch glanced back at Axel as if to gauge his reaction. The blonde woman immediately pushed all of her chips in.

Axel kept smirking and said, "Larxene, if you want to be stupid, go ahead. It's not much of a difference than usual."

Her eyebrows twisted into a deep scowl, but it was the blonde man who answered, "I'm all in, too." He gently fingered his earring in concentration, though his body was relaxed into his chair.

"Why don't we up the ante here, then?" Axel said, glancing back down at his cards.

Luxord leaned forward. "I'm listening."

"Of course you are." Axel grinned. Luxord was the biggest, best, and most intelligent gambler out of everyone. 'Up the ante' was one of his favorite things in the world to hear. "Let's bet for shifts."

Everyone in the room groaned. "Yes, Axel, what would be better to bet with than human souls?" Luxord said mockingly.

Larxene snickered. "Of course, that's what Axel would bet with. Only the best for him."

Axel grinned and stretched his arms over his head. "Of course. Now, any takers?"

The previous carefree air of the room quickly vanished, and was replaced with a tense strain, a disapproval that went far beyond gambling. The woman shifted in her chair and replied, "No." Luxord shook his head in agreement. "I have enough as it is. I don't need any more work." She ran her fingers through her short, slicked back hair and snorted. "And you need all the shifts you can get." Despite her somewhat teasing words, the meaning was much deeper. _Do your job and don't fuck around._

Axel rolled his eyes. "I work enough."

Larxene and Luxord looked at each other and laughed humorlessly. "Speaking of work," Larxene said, changing the subject, "didn't you have a collection at nine?"

"Nine seventeen, actually," Axel replied breezily.

"Ansem is going to freak," the young man laying on the couch called.

"Demyx, shut _up_," Axel said.

"You shouldn't miss your collections," Luxord said chidingly, rearranging his cards. "This is your job." The words felt familiar to Axel's ears. They had had this conversation many times before.

"Ansem will reschedule it," he retorted. "I'm doing his family a favor. They get more time with him, and I get to play poker." He pulled the tie from his hair, letting the red spikes fall loosely onto his shoulders, framing his pale face. "Besides, how much death do I want to see every day? All the crying makes _me_ want to die."

"Diva," Larxene muttered.

"Can we just play?" Axel interrupted.

Larxene threw down her cards in exasperation, revealing two tens. "I fold."

Luxord glanced between his cards and the cocky smile on Axel's face, and put his cards down as well. "A good poker player knows when to stop playing."

Axel grinned widely and flipped over his hand. "A two and a seven," he announced, reaching forward to grab all the chips. "I _was_ bluffing."

"No matter," Luxord said, looking up at the clock. "I have a collection in ten minutes, as it is." He got up, pulling on a black jacket, and smoothed out his beard.

As the older man headed out of the room, Axel leaned back in his chair, tilting his head so he was looking at him upside down. "Hey Lux, could you pick mine up too? His name is Eric Bradshaw. Heart attack."

"I thought you wanted to do his family a favor," Larxene said with a slight sneer.

Axel shrugged. "Hey, it _is_ his time."

"No, Axel, I'm not going to," Luxord replied, readjusting his tie before disappearing down the hallway. Axel frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Larxene just scowled at him as the room fell silent but for her shuffling of playing cards.

* * *

Eric Bradshaw woke up, his heart leaping back to life. His wife gripped his hand, tightly as her eyes filled with tears. 

"Someone must be looking out for you," she whispered.


	2. departing

_**gravity  
**_by neener

Thanks for the reviews guys. I hope you enjoy the chapter, please review!! –hugs-

* * *

**chapter one: departing**

Ansem looked pensively out of his window, watching the lake. Usually it was filled with life: birds and fish, boats and waves, but today it was empty and calm, despite the sunny weather. He sighed deeply, shifting the mug of coffee in his hands. Steam spiraled up towards the ceiling.

Behind him, a throat cleared. Ansem sighed and turned around to face the seated figure on the other side of his desk. The young man was strikingly handsome, hair standing out against his white shirt, two teardrop shaped tattoos set beneath his vivid green eyes. He had a relaxed air about him, bordering on uninterested, but he also looked slightly guilty, like he knew he had done something wrong. But Ansem knew that he only thing Axel was sorry about was getting caught disobeying his orders.

"Coffee?" the much older man offered.

Axel shook his head. "No, thanks."

Ansem turned back towards the window, frowning slightly. "Do you see the view out there, Axel?"

The redhead shrugged. "Yeah. Course. I see it all the time."

"Why is that?" Ansem sat down and propped his ankle up on his knee, leaning back in his chair.

Axel shrugged again. "Everyone knows what the lake looks like, Ansem." The older man gave him a look that obviously said _wrong answer_. "I guess because I'm in your office a lot."

Ansem nodded. _Bingo!_ "Do you think Larxene knows that view as well as you do?" Axel stared at him. "What about Xigbar, or Demyx? Even Xemnas, your supervisor and my most trusted employee, probably doesn't know this view as well as you."

"I doubt it," Axel said, smiling brightly. "Xemnas doesn't have a photographic memory like I do. He's losing it with age."

Ansem laughed lightly and set his coffee down on the desk, but his tone soon became somber. "Axel, you should have no idea what that lake looks like from out of my window. You shouldn't know the pictures I have on my desk, or what color my carpet is." He frowned slightly and leaned back in his chair. "Do you know what that means? It means you're being called into my office far too much. And you know why that is, don't you?" Axel merely looked back at him, vaguely disinterested. "I should never need to tell you to make your collections on time." He raised his voice. "It's a rule that you must obey, Axel. This is your job I'm talking about, not something meaningless and disposable, like – "

"A human life?" Axel suggested.

Ansem glared.

"God, it was just a joke," Axel muttered, looking down at the ground.

"I happen to think that you do not take your job seriously," Ansem continued, even though that much was obvious. "Out of the thirty eight collections you had this week, you only made" – he glanced at a for on his desk – "three."

"I was busy this week," the redhead replied defensively.

"Marluxia had twice as many collections as you and he got them all done," Ansem replied, his voice bordering on dangerous. "It is _not_ a question of how busy you are. These are human souls, souls _you_ are supposed to be delivering to Heaven. It is not a game, Axel! We have discussed this many, many times."

He paused, sighed, and stood up. "You belong to a group of the highest paid, most respected, and most talented soul collectors in the Universe. I had hoped you would step up to your position and show how much you enjoy this job, but I'm afraid I may have been mistaken." Ansem turned towards the window and frowned. "I'm going to have to ask the council what they think. In the meantime, _do your job_. There are souls who are counting on you to guide them into the next world."

Axel stood, his face strangely blank. "Can I be excused?" he asked in a tone that was almost mocking. "I probably have a collection or something."

As the redhead exited the room, Ansem dropped back into his seat and pulled Axel's file forward. It was thick with forms and papers, most of them reports about his duties being neglected. Others were about his history, his education, his previous jobs. He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead.

Axel was a soul collector – one of the best, in fact. When a person died, he or one of his thousands of fellow collectors would appear on Earth and guide them to Heaven. The transition was usually difficult, and it sometimes took hours to coax a particularly reluctant spirit to leave their home. If a soul collector was not strong or smart enough to help, their charge would often wander off, becoming a ghost that would have a hard time finding peace. If a collection was ignored altogether, the person's spirit would return to their body. Unfortunately, this was not always a wanted thing.

When Axel _did_ make a collection, his results were always fantastic. The problem was him actually getting around to doing his job.

"No," Ansem muttered to himself, turning the papers in the folder. That wasn't the only problem. Axel had never been human, and neither had any of the other soul collections. But Axel held a certain disdain for human beings. When he wasn't making a collection, he was arrogant and biting and cold, qualities that grated on everyone's nerves. But when he was sent to Earth on a job, he automatically become a polite, compassionate, and helpful guide.

_The only question is, _Ansem thought, picking up the copy of Axel's diploma from school,_ who is the real Axel? Which one is an act?

* * *

_

Axel tapped his cigarette on the side of the ashtray, frowning. Luxord was playing solitaire over in the corner, but otherwise the room was empty.

"Where is Larxene?" the redhead complained. He shifted on the couch and took another long drag on his cigarette. "We should continue our game."

Luxord had a look of deep concentration on his face. "I thought you won," he murmured. Axel shrugged and lay down on the couch, staring up at the blank ceiling. The room he was in could have been anywhere in the world – Axel had made collections from rooms like this, for old men who had heart attacks, women who drank too much, people who shot each other over who was winning the poker game.

_So stupid, _Axel thought, glaring generally all around the room_. Humans can be ridiculously dumb._

His bitter thoughts were interrupted by two people coming into the room. Both were dressed identically in black suits and white dress shirts, though their ties were different shades of blue. The younger of the two, Demyx, had on a dark blue tie; his companion had on a silvery one, matching the streaks in his dark hair, which was pulled back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. A dark patch covered his right eye. His name was Xigbar. Both were soul collectors.

"Hey guys," Xigbar said, shrugging his jacket off. "What's up?"

Axel grunted.

"Sounds fascinating," Xigbar replied, taking a seat next to Luxord. Demyx loosened his tie and tossed it towards Axel's red one, which was draped over the back of the couch. "Lux, wanna play a hand? I've got a collection at three forty, I need some time to kill." Luxord quickly finished his game of solitaire and then pulled the cards into a messy pile, readying them to be shuffled. "Let's play Go Fish or something," Xigbar added. Demyx laughed and sat down. "No, really."

"Too scared to play poker with the champion?" Demyx teased, pulling off his jacket.

Xigbar snorted. "Yeah, as if. I just don't wanna play anything too heavy. I just had a collection about an hour ago – a whole family, husband, wife, kids, even a little baby. Some asshole rammed into their car." He shook his head. Luxord began dealing the cards. "Damn. It's a shame, that's what it fucking is. Shit like this makes me wanna quit."

"Can you do that?" Demyx asked curiously, frowning at the hand he had been dealt.

Xigbar shrugged. "Sure. If you can get fired, why not quit?" Luxord set the remaining cards down between them. "I won't though."

"Let's just get on with the game," Demyx growled, frowning deeply. Axel couldn't tell if the younger man was bluffing or not; despite his harmless and innocent appearance, Demyx was actually an extremely good actor. He had been studying musical theatre, in fact, before deciding to come a soul collector. They both liked to play tricks on the others, especially some of the older collectors. It was a way to relieve some of the tension that easily built up.

"I heard Ansem called you into his office," Demyx called, setting down a pair of eights. "Luxord, got any queens?"

Luxord grudgingly handed him one.

"Xigbar, got any jacks?" Demyx asked, turning to the man on his right.

"Nope," he replied. "Go fish."

"Axel?" Demyx repeated, glancing back at his colleagues.

Axel put out his cigarette and leaned back. "Yeah." He paused. "He said I'm a good collector, but I don't do enough of it." He rolled his eyes. "Everyone misses a few."

Xigbar snorted. "Yeah, but you have such a fucking attitude about it," he said, not even looking at the redhead. "You don't care about the souls you bring here."

Axel shrugged. "Why should I? I hardly ever see them again."

Demyx sighed but said nothing. The others were silent too. After a short pause, the brunette said, "If Ansem told you you were doing a bad job, it was for a reason."

"Yeah, well, whatever," Axel said dismissively. He stood up and grabbed his jacket and tie. "Sorry I can't sit around and listen to you boring old hags, but _I _have a collection."

"Do you really?" Luxord asked mockingly.

"Yes, I do," Axel said in a cool voice. As he slipped out of the room, he could hear Xigbar mutter, "Yeah, whatever you say, Axel."

* * *

The room was filled with screaming and crying. The two naked figures on the bed had faces that were twisted up in horror and disgust and shock. The body on the floor lay still, blood seeping from its head. A gun lay nearby.

Axel appeared, though the man and woman could not see him, just as they couldn't see the dark-haired figure looking down at the body. _Her_ body.

"So I really did do it," she said in a hollow voice, hardly glancing up at him. "I killed myself."

Axel stood silently, his hands clasped behind him. The woman finally looked up, her ethereal face streaked with tears, and then glanced at the man in the bed. A sudden look of anger overtook her face, making her look ugly and cruel.

"That bastard is screwing my sister!" she cried. "How could he!?" She broke down into new waves of sobs, though Axel wasn't sure whether they were of rage or regret.

"People do stupid things sometimes," Axel said, extending his hand. "Come with me, Alice. It's time to go."

"Go where?" Alice's eyes were wide. "Oh, my god. Am I going to hell? They say that if you commit suicide, you're going to hell."

"You're not going to hell," Axel said.

Alice looked warily at him. "I'm not? I'm going to heaven?"

Axel nodded. She was strangely calm, for someone who had just put a gun to her head. Axel had had more than his share of reluctant spirits, of people who needed hours of explaining. _At least she isn't trying to take him with her,_ he thought. That, too, had happened to him. It just made his job all the more unpleasant.

She took a step forward, though she still looked suspicious. "What about purgatory?"

A smirk twitched up Axel's lips. Somewhat bitterly, he replied, "Earth is the purgatory, Alice. It's just another stop." He paused; his voice changed back to compassionate. "Heaven is waiting for you. Your parents are there."

Alice stared at him for a short time until she finally reached out and took his hand. The man had leapt out of the bed and was frantically dialing 911; the woman merely lay there, sobs convulsing her body. Alice deliberately didn't look at either of them. "Is it nice there?" she asked, tightening her fingers around his. The outline of her body shimmered, as if reflected in water.

"Yeah," Axel said, leading her away. "You haven't lived until you, well, haven't lived."

Alice smiled uneasily, but then laughed. Axel grinned genuinely at her. They walked together, back towards Heaven.

* * *

When Axel returned to the rec room, it was filled with his colleagues. The huge television was on, and everyone was gathered around it. On the screen were two creatures battling it out. A booming voice announced, "Pidgeotto used whirlwind!"

"Hahah, beaten at your own game!" Xigbar shouted triumphantly. "I rule!" Both he and Xaldin were bent over video game controllers, their faces concentrated on the television screen.

Axel sat down on the back of the couch behind Larxene. Next to her was a man somewhat older than Axel, though he wasn't paying attention to the television screen like she was; he was boredly reading a magazine. His dark pink hair fell haphazardly into his eyes. The man glanced up at Axel and a look of disdain came over his face.

"Ansem wants to see you," he said calmly.

Axel wanted to make a face at him, but knew even that wouldn't be a good idea. Marluxia wasn't a barrel of laughs to begin with, and doing just the tiniest thing would only piss him off more and cause problems. So the redhead muttered a 'thanks' and hurried back out of th eroom.

The sun was hanging low over the horizon as Axel strolled across the lawn towards the large office building, where Ansem was located. There were other spirits strewn across the grass, talking to one another or reading on their own. A football game was going on by the lake.

Several people called out to him, but Axel ignored them. He preferred not to talk to spirits after he guided them; it only made him uncomfortable. The other soul collectors were company enough.

He ducked into the cool, air conditioned building and breezed past the secretary. Ansem's office was on the sixth floor. Axel knew the way by heart – he could have walked it blindfolded.

The elevator and hallways were filled with people carrying stacks of folders, files about the dead, forms that needed to be filled out. The building was always bustling with activity. It made Axel uneasy. It was bad enough when the rec room was filled with people, especially when they were all playing Pokemon Stadium. Axel shook his head.

Ansem's door was shut, but he could hear the man talking on the phone animatedly. Axel considered just waiting until some woman brushed passed him, her hair hitting him in the face. He grimaced and knocked forcefully on the door.

"Ansem, it's Axel," he called. Seconds later, the door opened, and the older blonde man beckoned him in, seemingly done with his phone conversation. The desk was piled a foot high with folders and paperwork; the trashbin nearby was overflowing with empty ice cream pop wrappers.

"Have a seat," Ansem said, his voice a bit strained. Axel was surprised – and curious. Ansem was a calm and centered man, who hardly ever lost his temper and strongly disliked shouting. For him to be worried or tense, it must be important, Axel thought. He stayed quiet as Ansem sat opposite him.

"I'm afraid the council was not sympathetic to your actions," Ansem finally said.

Axel stared at him.

The blonde man continued, "They worry that your inability to perform your job is due to the fact that you have no appreciation for human life."

Axel let out a bark of laughter. "That's not true, Ansem. I have a _huge_ appreciation for human life."

Ansem gave him a look. "Now is not the time." He sighed and grabbed a report off of the top of the stack, flipping it open, and began to read. "_My soul collector was really funny, he made me feel at ease despite the circumstances. He helped me to the orientation office and also told me where the best place to buy ice cream was. I definitely give him a ten out of ten, or whatever your rating system is_." Ansem threw the report back on the stack. "Axel, all of your reports are like this. Why can't you just do your job?"

Axel said nothing, but sighed in annoyance and looked up at the ceiling.

The older blonde man stood up. "The council has given me orders to send you to Earth."

Axel's face paled and his jaw dropped open. "Er… what?"

Ansem sighed. "They hope that by living there" – Axel began to stutter in protest – "you will learn at least a little about what they go through." He paused. "They've only given you thirty days. If they do not believe you've learned your lesson, you will no longer hold this position."

"I don't want it anyway!" Axel growled, standing up and putting his fists on the desk.

"Do not lie, Axel," Ansem said pointedly. "This job is the only thing you feel attachment to! You _will_ live as a human for 30 days."

Axel ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. This was an uncommon punishment, but it had happened before – one of Axel's previous colleagues, a man named Saix, had abused his position and was sent to Earth many times, but he never learned anything from his trips, and so was permanently ordered there to leave out his life as a mortal. Axel's stomach flipped. _Is that what I want? Definitely not!_

"Fine," he finally said. "Okay. I'll do it. Will I get killed or anything? What if I get hit by a car or stabbed or something?"

"No," Ansem told him. "You are safe from death – we want you to return and hopefully, possibly, reclaim your job. But you will feel both emotional and physical pain."

The redhead chuckled humorlessly. He already had a plan. "I'm looking forward to it." _How hard is it going to be to live in a hotel for 30 days? The only emotional pain I'll be feeling is if my room service is late._

Ansem frowned. "There is one other term."

Axel turned to face the door, and paced across the room, a look of disbelief on his face. _This is ridiculous_, he thought. "Fine," he muttered. "What is it?"

Ansem hesitated. "On your way back, you have to bring someone with you."

"I don't understand." Axel's brows knitted together. "I have to bring someone back with me? Who?"

"You will know when the time comes," Ansem replied cryptically.

"But why – "

"Now, we must go," he interrupted.

"Wait, _now_?" Axel was aghast.

Ansem nodded and quickly crossed the distance between them. He grabbed Axel's arm in a vice grip and dragged him forward. Axel could feel the strange sensation of his body slipping away at the edges, fading away into the air. He shut his eyes tightly, his mind racing.

When he opened them, they were standing in a deserted alleyway. Rain poured down upon them, but it fell right through their skin, as if they were only holograms. The streets were filled with cars; people bustled up and down the sidewalk hurriedly.

"Where are we?" Axel asked, staring out into the city streets. Ansem let go of his arm, and the redhead felt a thundering shock, his body solidifying, becoming heavy and alive. Suddenly he could feel the rain coursing across him, feel the cold raising gooseflesh on his skin, feel every single part of his body in startlingly stark detail.

He looked up at Ansem, who had a solemn expression on his face. "See you in thirty days," he said, adjusting his tie before turning on his heel and fading away, leaving Axel alone in the alleyway, his clothes and hair soaked with rain.


	3. the bitch of living

_**gravity**__  
_by neener

Thanks for the reviews! There's going to be some Axel & Roxas interaction in this chapter, but not too much. Also, it's going to be apparent that this fic is also Cloud/Tifa. I think they could be funny together, I know that sounds weird, but they have a very interesting relationship to me. I also hope you guys like the characterizations…most of the important people are introduced in this chapter. Anyway, enjoy!!!, and please review!

Oh, and whoever finds the Into The Woods reference in this chapter, besides my sister, officially wins. The chapter title is from Spring Awakening.

* * *

**chapter two: the bitch of living**

Axel stood in the dark alleyway for several minutes, a frown tightening his face, which was strange enough. He didn't feel the otherworldly disconnection of Heaven anymore. He felt alive.

_Well, I am,_ he thought, blinking.

His stomach grumbled with hunger, and Axel was suddenly jolted back to reality. He could feel the rain running off of his fingertips, filling his shoes, plastering his hair to his head. He could hear his breath, hear the frenzied beating of his heart. Any appreciation he had for being alive was officially gone. _I need a plan, _he thought._ I need a place to live, and I need food_. Axel took a deep breath, trying to calm himself._ Okay. This is going to be okay. I'm going to get something to eat, and then I am going to make a plan._

He crushed down any anger he was feeling at Ansem in favor of taking some action. Standing in the rain wasn't going to get him anywhere. He wiped water from his eyes and took a few hesitant steps forward. His feet felt so heavy…every nerve burned as he clenched and unclenched his fists, bent his knees, waggled his eyebrows. Everything he did felt strange, foreign, but solid and warm, and undeniably aware.

Biting back the urge to examine his own hands, Axel stepped out onto the New York street, keeping close to the nearby building. Even in the rain, traffic moved along briskly, and no one seemed to spare him a second glance. The redhead noticed the cars speeding down the pavement and cringed. His opinion of cars was not good at all. They were death traps to him – his only encounters with the vehicles had been because of a collection. He shuddered, remembering what Xigbar had said only hours before, though it could have been days, Axel didn't know, he had no sense of time anymore. _Just had a collection about an hour ago. An entire family – husband, wife, kids, even a little baby. Some asshole rammed into their car. _Axel inched away, back into the alleyway. But soon, it became apparent to him that on the sidewalk, he was safe, Axel took a few hesitant steps forward, joining the mess of people that hurried forward. He began walking, stuffing his hands in his sodden pockets as he went. Axel figured that wandering around aimlessly would give him some time to figure something out.

_Didn't they plan on warning me?_ Axel thought irritably. He found that he was almost instinctively following an older man on his cell phone who paid no attention to the pathetic redhead trailing after him. Axel really had no idea where to go, and this man seemed to know what he was doing. _Couldn't Ansem have given me some instructions? I don't have any money!_ He frowned._ This fucking blows._

As the rain pounded down on him and people jostled him from all sides, Axel found that only one thing comforted him, and he had no problem admitting it to himself. He had no chance of dying within the next thirty days. Any of these people around him could die at any second, any moment. A soul collector would make their appearance, the family would grieve, and that would be it. But he…he was safe. _I only have to endure thirty days of this stupidity, and then I can suck up to the council and get my job back. I'll do a better job this time_. But it was only a half promise. Axel wasn't sure if he intended to lie to the council or tell them, yes, he learned everything he ever could about compassion, and he would be most grateful to have his job back.

Axel was once again pulled out of his thoughts, this time by a stern voice. It was the man on his cell phone, the one Axel had been following somewhat absently. "Young man," he said, "you've been following me for the past three blocks. Please stop."

They were standing on the outskirts of a park, but Axel didn't know where. He grappled for an answer, shivering slightly, before smartly replying, "Did it occur to you that I'm going to same place you're going?"

The man shifted his umbrella in one hand and raised an eyebrow. "I'm going home to my wife and children. Are _you_ going home to my wife and children?"

Axel could think of nothing to say, so he said just that – nothing – and walked away. The man seemed to recover, as within seconds, he was chattering away on his cell phone again.

_Well, whatever,_ Axel thought dismissively, squeezing the water out of his hair, even though it was useless. Even though his previous wanderings had done nothing to give him inspiration (or anything, for that matter, other than cold, wet clothes) Axel knew he had to do something with his time, or risk getting bored, which seemed much more horrible than dying of hypothermia at the moment. So he bowed his head and continued down the street, turning corners when he felt like it, following people when they interested him. He couldn't get lost, for he had no idea where he was in the first place.

_Isn't that the definition of lost?_ he wondered. It was the first cohesive sentence he had put together in the past hour and a half. His other thoughts had been mainly, _Oh shit, I am so fucked_. He blinked rain out of his eyes for at least the tenth time that minute, and he forced himself to focus on the street around him. The streets seemed to have thinned somewhat; people preferred to crowd into the stores and apartments that rose above him, or into taxi cabs, stuck in traffic due to the weather. It took Axel several seconds to register the strong, magnificent scent that wafted out into the damp air from a nearby shop. _Coffee! It's coffee!_ Axel felt a rush of relief and looked back towards the stores, trying to figure out which one was the source of that delicious aroma.

Unfortunately, he was craning his neck so much that wasn't paying attention to where he was going, and bumped into someone. Her umbrella scratched across his face.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, automatically taking a step back and pulling her umbrella out of his face. She had dropped a plastic bag on the ground, and Axel bent to pick it up, a little embarrassed for bumping into her. But he still had only one thing on his mind: coffee! "It's just fruit," she said as Axel handed her groceries back to her. "It's no problem. Thanks."

They stared at each other for a moment. She seemed to have no qualms about making eye contact with a complete stranger for longer than three seconds, and that freaked Axel out. Weren't humans supposed to be wary of weird people? He was sure he qualified as weird.

When she finally blinked, brushing her dark bangs out of her only-slightly lighter eyes, Axel noticed the ring sparkling on her left hand. He frowned. She looked to be his age – at least, the age he appeared. _How old do I look anyway?_ he wondered, taking a second glance at her. _Why am I not married! I'm probably better looking than her. _He inwardly cringed. _Is this what being a human is like? Acting unreasonable and arrogant? This is ridiculous. _(Axel ignored the voice in the back of his mind that said, _well, according to that analysis, you've been a human for your entire non-life._)

"Sorry," he finally said, moving to head back to the coffee shop. He planned on begging for coffee, or maybe stealing it. He wasn't sure yet. Gently, he reached up and touched the sore area where her umbrella had smacked into his face, still frowning.

"Wait!" Her voice just oozed concern, and Axel halted, causing several people to frown and glare and have to make their way around him. "You look cold," she finally said. _Yes, thank you for that very obvious observation. _"Are you all right?"

The young man was painfully reminded of the soaked clothes that clung to his body, doing more harm than good, and he grimaced. His fingers were stiff and chilled, his lips numb. Even his ears were cold, which was a weird, weird feeling.

"Yeah," he finally answered. "I'm okay."

"You look lost." She cocked her head to the side. "Where are you going to?"

Axel felt a ripple of annoyance at her curiosity. Couldn't she go be abnormally nice somewhere else? "Just walking," he told her, and forced a smile. Her facial expression told him that he looked more like an angry baboon. Axel quickly gained back his frown.

She hesitated for a moment, and then said, "I'm Tifa." Axel was extremely glad she did not extend her hand. "I live a few blocks away, so if you need directions…" She trailed off and then looked at him again. "Are you _sure _you aren't lost? You look like a drowning kitten."

It was meant to be funny, but Axel had seen plenty of drowned kittens, and it was not going to make him smile. Instead, he frowned deeply, and Tifa looked even more concerned than before.

At that moment, his stomach gave a gigantic groan, and Axel was aware of his hunger once again. Tifa adjusted the umbrella on her shoulder, looking at the rain pouring off of the young redhead and the scowl on his face, and her hesitant expression settled into one of complete decision.

"Come on, I'll get you something to eat," she said, nodding her head down the street.

"That's not necessary," Axel dismissed, but he was relieved when she began to insist. _Okay, so I am hungry, and cold, _he thought._ Who in their right mind would pass this up?_ Suddenly, the flow of rain stopped, and Axel looked up, trying to see if the sun was out. Instead, he saw red and white polkadots – her umbrella, shielding him. The absence of rainfall just made him feel colder. He was hesitant about trusting someone he had met only five minutes before, but what other option did he have? Stealing a cup of coffee? That was downright pathetic. So, with a slight shrug, he took a reluctant step towards her.

Tifa smiled kindly, seemingly satisfied with this. "I live this way," she said as they fell into step together. "Not too far."

Axel stayed silent, as did Tifa, as if she knew that he didn't want to talk to her. But she smiled the entire walk there, their feet hitting the pavement in unison, the umbrella shielding them both from the storm.

* * *

Her house was…cozy. Tucked away between two others, the doorstep overflowing with brightly colored flowers dampened by the rain – it was nothing Axel would have ever looked twice at. But once inside, he found his curiosity overrode his hunger. Despite himself, he looked curiously around the hallway where Tifa had left him, examining the carpets, the shoe rack, the doors at the end of the hall. As he stood looking at the picture frames on the wall, he heard clattering from the next room.

"Come on in the kitchen," Tifa called, poking her head through the archway. She looked him up and down and frowned. "You're soaking wet! You must be cold." She paused as he hesitantly pulled his socks and shoes off. "I don't think I caught your name," she finally said.

"Axel," he grunted, shivering slightly.

"Axel," she repeated. "Well, come in."

When he finally took the few steps into the kitchen, Tifa immediately threw a towel at his head. Only moments later, she was pressing an elastic hair tie into his hand.

"Tie your hair up," she instructed.

Axel silently obeyed and then wrapped the towel around his shoulders, looking around the kitchen. A small, round table was sitting to his right, surrounded by chairs; one of them had a towel folded on the seat, apparently for him to sit on. Gingerly, he did, his legs barely touching the wood.

There was a long silence, awkward at least on Axel's part. Tifa puttered around the kitchen, opening and closing the cabinets, and he was so lost in his thoughts (_what do I do now? how long am I supposed to stay here? what does she want from me? what do I want from her?_) that he didn't notice she was practically shouting his name.

"Huh? What?" He blinked, pulling the towel tighter around his shoulders.

"Do you want a sandwich?" Axel wondered if 'concern' was the only expression she could emit. He shrugged.

"What do you want on it?" she pressed.

"I don't know," he replied. His voice sounded snappier than he would have liked, and he flinched, grimacing. Tifa seemed not to have noticed, and she continued bustling around, taking out plates, mayonnaise, tomatoes. After a long pause, she asked, "So Axel, where do you live?"

"Uhhh." The redhead looked up at the young woman, who was piling cold cuts onto a slice of bread. _How do I answer?_ he wondered. He easily could have lied, but his mind was more focused on his shivering, on what the rest of his month held for him, for him to come up with anything intelligent. So he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: "Er… out of town."

Unfortunately, this was not specific enough for Tifa, who asked curiously, "Really? Where exactly?"

Axel felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Usually he was quick on his feet, able to come up with a witty retort in seconds. But for once, he was at a loss – it was a combination of the cold, his hunger, his worry about what he was going to do… but he had nothing to say. His mouth hung open stupidly.

Finally, he blurted out exactly what he was thinking. "I don't know."

Tifa paused, and turned around, her raven hair falling across her face as she tilted her head to the side. "You don't know where you live?" She laughed lightly, shaking her head. Axel only smiled in a strained sort of way, hoping she would turn around and forget the whole thing. But Tifa was evidently more observant than he originally thought, for she noticed the look on his face. Her smile faded to a concerned frown. "You don't know? You don't remember? Honestly?" Axel stayed silent, which was quite difficult for him. Tifa stared. "Well," she finally said, as if sifting through her thoughts and reordering them, "what were you doing before you came to the city?"

Axel shrugged again. He suddenly felt very tired. It had been a long day – hell, it had been a long non-life. All he wanted to do was curl up on the rec room couch, smoke a cigarette, and listen to Xigbar and Larxene insult each other. The feeling that he was alone only intensified as he looked up at Tifa, the first human being to actually interact with him, though she certainly would not be the last. For some reason, the thought was troubling. Goosebumps prickled all over his body, making him shudder. His fingers shook stiffly in his lap, pale and curled, like claws. Tifa continued to frown at him.

"Where are you staying?"

The look on her face plainly told him, _go ahead, shrug, I know you're going to_. So he thought, _why disappoint?_

Tifa's lips pursed for several seconds as the silence in the room blossomed. Axel's thoughts seemed to echo, filling every square inch, pressing against the walls and ceiling and floor_. I don't know where I came from, I don't know where I'm going, I have nothing_. Anger rushed through him. Ansem had left him with _nothing_ but a few meager instructions, which didn't even help him. Axel lowered his eyes to his knees. There was a small stain on his pants leg from a few nights before, when Lexaeus had accidentally dropped a piece of toast with jelly onto him. Painstakingly, Axel pressed his thumb against the stain, fitting his fingerprint exactly, focusing on the feel of the fabric, anything other than Tifa's eyes boring into his forehead.

After a long while, he finally said, "Sorry."

Suddenly there was a soft _thump_. Axel looked up to see Tifa with her hands on her hips. She had dropped his plate onto the table, complete with napkin. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she said.

He swallowed hard, trying – and failing – to keep from feeling relieved. _No more questions, _he thought._ No more lies. That's my plan. _Axel smirked up at her. "I know," he said. "I didn't know if you're one of those people that likes to hear the not-quite truth."

She smiled slightly, though there was still worry layered beneath her kind expression. "The not-quite truth will get you nowhere with me." She pointed at his plate. "Eat. I'll ask questions later."

Axel obeyed. The sandwich was delicious.

Tifa made no attempt at small talk; she disappeared in and out of the room, humming to herself, while Axel licked his finger and picked up crumbs. By the time he was done, he felt a little better, but he still didn't have a place to stay. Or a real plan, for that matter. Being honest certainly didn't count.

"Where should I put this?" he called out to her, trying to be polite.

From somewhere down the hall, Tifa said, "Just in the sink is fine."

Axel stood, clutching his towel tightly, and made his way over to the sink, which was empty. The faucet dripped, even when he spent several frustrating seconds trying to turn it off. Silently, he placed his plate in the sink, and ran his hand beneath the steady _drip_. He was still surprised at how alive everything felt. Being in Heaven was like observing something through a plane of glass, so it was soft around the edges. Here, things were clearer, more real. It was…strange at best, frightening at worst. Axel was suddenly hit with the reality of everything, like he had been hiding under a blanket and it was suddenly pulled off, and he was breathing cool air again. But it wasn't a refreshing feeling – it made him sick. He had nothing in his pockets except water. He had nothing – no money, no home, no friends (unless you counted Tifa, but he didn't simple as that) and _no plan_. This pissed him off more than anything.

_I may not always have a plan, _Axel thought grimly,_ but at least I had something to work with! You can't make something out of nothing._

He could hear Xigbar's voice in his head, an echo: _Yeah, but you sure as hell can make nothing from nothing, you're living – or not-living – proof of that!_

Axel gripped the side of the counter, overcome with a feeling of vertigo; panic overtook him – his heart pounded, his throat clogged, his vision blurred – but he knew that wasn't going to get him anywhere, except wandering the street again.

"What are you doing?" an unfamiliar, undeniably annoyed voice asked.

Axel looked up to see a young man, perhaps slightly older than Axel himself looked, with a quite blank expression on his face. The only indication of his irritation (besides scathing tone of voice) was his blue eyes, narrowed dangerously.

The two stared at each other for a moment before it registered to Axel that _this_ was one of the people from the various picture frames he had looked at. Albeit, he was slightly older, and with somewhat longer hair, but it was him. _Tifa's husband,_ he realized, pleased with himself for making the connection so quickly.

He remembered that he was gripping the side of the counter, almost ferociously, and quickly let go. Fortunately, as the awkwardness favor simply couldn't get any higher, Tifa reentered the kitchen, dressed in an entirely new outfit.

"Hey, Cloud!" she said, a smile lighting up her features. She gave him a gentle kiss before turning to Axel. "Did you like your sandwich?"

He shrugged without even thinking, before tacking on a hasty, "Yeah, it was all right. Thanks."

Tifa turned to Cloud and said nonchalantly, "This is Axel. I found him wandering around on my way home. How was work?"

Cloud frowned at her, which wasn't much of a change from his blank expression. For some reason, Axel found this hysterically funny. The effort of not bursting into stupid fits of girlish giggles made his face turn red.

Neither of the two relative strangers seemed to notice, however. Cloud merely grabbed Tifa's hand and muttered something, probably along the lines of, "I need to talk to you about the strange man in our kitchen", before dragging her down the hallway. Axel slapped a hand over his mouth and struggled not to laugh. Their voices carried down the hallway, into the kitchen, despite their attempt at whispering.

"Who is he?" "I told you already." "Well… what is he doing here?" "Look at him. He looks like he dived into a pool with all his clothes on." "At least he's not naked." "Oh, come on, Cloud. I gave him a sandwich and he's going to take a shower." "Is he leaving?" "_Cloud!_ I don't know." "…that's really not the answer I expected." "I think he's homeless, honey." Cloud snorted. "Hey! He's pathetic, come on. At the very least he's going to take a shower…maybe sleep on the couch…"

_Score! _Axel thought with a rush of relief._ Food? Check. Shelter? Check. Sympathy?_

"Cloud, he seems kind of down and out of place. He said he was out of town, but he can't remember where, and I can't just turn him out onto the street while it's raining if he has nowhere to go. What kind of a psychopath would wander around in the rain waiting for pretty girls to take them home, make them ham sandwiches, and listen to them argue with their husbands in their hallways? He seems harmless, not to mention lonely."

_Check!_

"I don't know," Cloud said reluctantly. "Your logic isn't exactly airtight, because a psychopath would do all of those things – "

Much to Axel's (and apparently Cloud's) confusion, Tifa seemed to _growl_ a little at this. Her husband immediately fell silent. "Cloud, do _not_ patronize me. He is not going to murder us. We'll talk while he's taking a shower. I need to get ready for work. Thank you."

Cloud mumbled something that Axel wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

Moments later, Tifa reappeared, beaming happily; Cloud sulked after her, his face still somewhat emotionless. Axel forced himself to not laugh, and surreptitiously pinched his wrist between his fingernails, focusing himself on the pain, the strangeness, instead of his ridiculous sense of humor.

"You can take a shower now, if you'd like," Tifa said, still smiling warmly at him. "I'll get you some clothes and clean towels." Obediently, Axel trailed behind her as she headed up the stairs, but not before casting a (obviously unintentional, he was sure) triumphant look back at the frowning blonde man, who began to outright glare at him.

Ten minutes later, while experimentally squeezing out half a bottle of Pantene Pro-V into his hair, Axel began to laugh. It was only for a moment, and he quickly regained control over himself, but it had the effect of dissipating all of his tension, all of his worry, all of his anger, all of his fear, and replacing it with confidence. _I'll all right now, _he thought, glancing up at the ceiling, imagining that he could see straight through to the sky. _I've got a place to stay now. You're not breaking me anytime soon. _He smirked. _I'll try to be good. We'll see how it goes.

* * *

_

"How was _that_ sandwich?" Tifa asked from the stove, where she was currently occupied in stirring something in a pot – Axel hadn't bothered to figure out what, as _he_ was currently occupied by a mouth full of ham.

"It's great," he said exuberantly, being sure not to spit any food out accidentally. "Thanks again, Tifa."

"It's no problem," she replied. "You seemed hungry."

"I was," he said with a grin. Not long after getting out of the shower, Axel had quickly been overtaken by more hunger pains. _Do humans eat like this all the time?_ he had wondered, before hurrying back downstairs. Tifa had had no problem with making him another sandwich; she seemed to enjoy making sure he was taken care of, which pleased Axel to no end. _At least I'll have a place to stay for a while, _he told himself. _And all the sandwiches I can possibly eat. _Cloud was a bit of a nuisance (at that moment, he was sitting across the kitchen table, staring at him in annoyance) but Axel was sure he was the non-confrontational type, and that Tifa probably wore the pants in the relationship, so to speak. _I can deal with thirty days of annoyed staring, _Axel decided. When Tifa's back was turned, he opened his mouth and made a face at Cloud, who looked disgusted.

"I'm going to make up the guest bedroom for you, is that all right?" Tifa asked conversationally. Cloud's eyes practically bugged out of his head.

Axel was delighted. "Thanks, Tifa."

"Are you sure that guest bedroom is… ah…" Obviously Cloud couldn't think of an un-offensive way to phrase: _That stranger needs to sleep on our couch, stupid! _"Well – "

"He can't sleep on the couch," Tifa said, in a tone of voice reminiscent of little girls trying to get their parents to buy them a kitten. "He's our guest! And then we'll be able to watch television and everything without invading on him."

Cloud muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "He's invading on us."

"What was that?" Tifa looked dangerous. Even Axel shrunk away.

"Nothing," her husband said innocently, exchanging a look with Axel, his first semi-friendly one of the day, which said quite plainly, _Watch the fuck out for her! _But then his face closed again, unreadable and blank.

There was a sudden crackling, and then a somewhat muffled female voice said, "Can someone come up for a second?" The redhead looked around for the source of the noise and saw a small baby monitor, sitting on the counter.

"I'll go," Cloud said, standing. "You need to get ready for work."

Tifa glanced up at the clock and then swore quietly under her breath. "All right. Hey, Axel?" He swallowed down a huge hunk of lettuce and looked up. "Could you stir this for me? Only for a few minutes, and then I'll come back down and turn it off."

Axel looked regretfully down at his half-eaten sandwich, but then nodded. The least he could do was stir something for the woman who had pretty much saved him from a month of misery. As the two left the room, each heading up the stairs, Axel crossed over to the stove and peered into the pot.

"Pudding?" he muttered incredulously. Indeed, the medium-sized pot was filled with the dessert. _Why would anyone need so much freaking pudding?_ Axel wondered. Lexaeus used to make it all the time, before everyone started complaining about it, but even then, he never made this much. _How much pudding can three people eat? _His thoughts led him back to the baby monitor, and he wondered who that was. Things were just getting weirder and weirder.

Gingerly, Axel picked up the pudding-coated spoon and began stirring the pot. He had to admit, it smelled pretty good – and he was still hungry. He looked between the pudding and the remains of his sandwich and wondered what to do. Overcome by a stroke of brilliance, he continued stirring the pot with his right hand, and leaned over towards the kitchen table, stretching out his fingers towards his plate.

_Am I allowed to stop stirring it? _He quickly dismissed the very idea. He knew from experience that stopping to stir the pudding would burn it, and he certainly didn't want to do that. Nobody liked burned pudding. Especially Axel, and especially people who he was supposed to be helping. With a determined sigh, he stretched his hand farther and made a grab for his sandwich. The pot jolted forward, much to his horror, but luckily didn't fall. He grinned triumphantly.

From down the hall, a door opened; one extremely cheery voice suddenly exploded throughout the house. Axel panicked and fell forward; the spoon clattered to the floor, and his fingers slammed against the plate, sending his sandwich flying into the air. As two teenage boys wandered into the kitchen, Axel expertly caught the out-of-control ham sandwich, although he ended up putting his knee in the small pile of pudding on the tile.

"Cool!" one of the boys cheered, throwing his backpack to the ground. "Are you a juggler?"

Axel stared up at him. _Uh, who are they? _His firm sense of security was instantly diminished. _Oh, Christ, more people to win over. _Not to mention one of them – he had lighter hair, and an annoyed expression similar to Cloud's – was staring at him with the utmost of distaste.

Perhaps even more daunting was the dumb kid who thought he was a juggler.

"Who are you?" the annoyed boy asked.

"Um, I'm Axel." He gingerly placed the sandwich back on his plate and leaned back on his heels to examine his pudding-stained pants. _They must be the kids from some of those pictures. Fuck. I thought they would have somewhere else to live. _

"I'm Sora!" The more excitable (and, apparently, dumber) of the two brothers hurried over to the counter and grabbed some paper towels. He looked pointedly at his brother, who ignored him. Sora bent down and wiped up the sloppy spots of chocolate pudding from the kitchen floor, and then cleaned off the spoon before plopping it back in the pot. "Cool! Pudding!" He leaned forward and took a deep breath. "Do you know what's for dinner?"

_What the hell is wrong with this kid? _Axel wondered.

"Tifa, what's for dinner?" Sora asked as the woman walked into the kitchen, fastening on her earrings. She glanced down at Axel, kneeling on the ground with pudding on his knee, and then up at Sora, who had his face nearly submerged in the pudding, and sighed.

"Cloud is going to make meatloaf. What did you guys get?" She glanced at the bag that the more-depressed of the two brothers was holding, which was peppered was grease and, from where Axel was kneeling, smelled pretty damn good.

"Rox bought hot dogs, only he used his own money." _What kind of a name is Rox? Sounds like a Pokemon._ "Now he's poor and doesn't have any money to buy me a birthday gift! Nyaah, nyaah!"

"What did you eat today?" his brother asked conversationally.

"Axel, are you all right?" Tifa asked. "Why are you on the ground?"

"I fell down," he said sheepishly.

Apparently satisfied with this answer, Tifa abandoned that train of thought and looked back at Sora. "Riku called literally thirty seconds ago. How does he get home from school so fast?"

"Dunno," Sora said breathlessly, still smelling the pudding. "We're going to eat this, right?"

"No, we're going to dump it down the sewer," Tifa said sarcastically. "Can you guys do the dishes? I don't have time, and I don't want Axel to - Roxas – are you listening?" The lighter-haired boy stopped glaring at Axel, blinked, and looked up. _Well, at least his name isn't Rox. _"Please do them before I get home."

"But Tifa, it's movie night!" Sora whined.

"You use that excuse every time I ask you to do something," Tifa said fondly. "Come on, guys. Oh, by the way – this is Axel. He's going to be staying with us for a while."

Axel attempted to smile up at them – _two freaking teenage kids, how am I going to deal with this? _– but was sure he had failed at seeming friendly. However, neither seemed to notice; Roxas was poking around the refrigerator, and Sora had hurried past Tifa into the next hallway, apparently to call back his friend.

"I made up the guest bedroom for you, Axel," Tifa said kindly, smoothing out her skirt. "I also laid out some clothes I found in the laundry room, if you need any more – maybe we can go to the Salvation Army tomorrow and get you some more, how does that sound?"

_God, I feel like a little kid. _"Um…good. Thanks, Tifa."

She beamed. "It's no problem. Can you do me a favor – I need to finish getting ready – can you keep stirring the pudding for a little bit and then turn it off? I don't think it's done yet."

"Yeah, sure." Axel stood up, wiped the pudding from his knee with a spare paper towel, and turned back to the pot. He felt a little guilty about neglecting it – it was probably burned on the bottom, unfortunately for everyone – but hey, it hadn't been his fault! Well, sort of. Okay, so it was.

Roxas ignored him. He didn't even stare disagreeably at the stranger, like Cloud did, or sneak curious glances at him. He just pretended that Axel wasn't there, which was a little unnerving. The redhead suddenly felt like a ghost again – a spirit, like he had just made a collection and was hanging around, and no one could see him again. Axel was aware of how little he missed that feeling – how alive he felt now. _God dammit, _he thought. _This is just ridiculous. _He slammed his palm against the side of head (sure enough, Roxas didn't notice, or care) to try to organize his thoughts, somehow, to make them fall into place. But there was too much – too many details, so many fucking _problems_, that the attempt only made Axel feel frustrated, weak, angry.

"What's wrong with you?" Roxas had closed the refrigerator door and was staring at him, blue eyes narrowed. Axel half-heartedly stirred the pudding pot, sure it was at least ninety percent burned by now.

Roxas continued to frown at him but said nothing further. From down the hall, he could hear Sora chatting animatedly on the phone; somewhere, a clock was ticking; cars raced down the street outside; rain pounded against the windows.

Distantly, Axel went to turn the pot to scrape some pudding off of the sides; he pressed his palm against the side of the hot metal. It took a moment for him to realize what he had done, and he pulled away, cringing and folding his body towards his hand. _Shit._

Roxas half-rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. "Nice job," he muttered.

Axel glared after him. Things were going to be a lot harder than he thought.


	4. at the bottom of everything

_**gravity  
**_by neener

Sorry it took me so long to update! I was doing Script Frenzy, and then I got totally suckered in by Spring Awakening fandom, and then I was just characteristically lazy. So I'm finally updating. I won't do that again! (procrastinate, I mean. I actually plan on finishing this fic! Miracle!) But the next update may be slow, considering I am still crying over Deathly Hallows. I am in denial. It's not over. At least I'm not a Harry/Hermione shipper, then I would be _really _unhappy. Is Ron/Hermione still a spoiler? Well, whatever.

I also had a lot of typos last chapter… luckily I went back and changed them (the worst one was, "Young man, you've been following me for **three months**, could you please stop?" XD. Wtf is wrong with me.)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! It took me three goddamn months to write, I hope it's good.

* * *

**chapter three: at the bottom of everything**

Outside Axel's window, an ambulance shrieked past, wailing very inconsiderately.

"Nnngh."

The inside of his elbow was covered with drool, but the redhead ignored it (and the consistent throb of his burned hand) and buried his face in his pillow. At least Heaven was quiet at night. He had been unable to get more than ten minutes of sleep since eight thirty, when he had retreated into his room (filled with shame and feeling like the lamest person on the planet for not staying up late). The rain still hadn't stopped; sometime around ten, it was joined by horrible bellows of thunder that scared Axel out of his pants – although he would never admit it to anybody, ever. Not even Lexaeus, who was afraid of heights (ironically) or Demyx, who had arachnophobia. He remembered that Larxene had told him once, through fits of hysterical giggles, that Xaldin was getting counseling for having fear-of-getting-peanut-butter-stuck-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth. _At least my fears are rooted in reality, _Axel justified._ Being afraid of heights is stupid when you live in the air; spiders can't do anything to harm you unless you let them crawl on you; any fear involving peanut butter is just stupid anyway. But thunderstorms are genuinely bad. The house could be struck by lightening and we wouldn't even have a chance._

Axel rolled onto his back to look at the ceiling, which was erratically lit from the storm outside. Much to his consternation, there was a Dora the Explorer nightlight in the corner. "My friend's daughter stayed in here last," Tifa had said by way of apology. "I actually like it. It gives the room character."

_Yeah, like it doesn't already have enough character of its own,_ Axel thought sarcastically. Cloud and Tifa obviously hadn't heard the theory that guest rooms should be as blank as possible, so the guest has more room to spread around their personality, so to speak – so they would feel more at home. This particular guest room was cluttered with books of poetry, glass figurines, interesting looking cases, and a particularly unnerving cabinet that had nothing in it except books about mortuaries. The adjoining bathroom was little better; it was filled with lipstick and tampons and several boxes of condoms. Axel had nearly torn the two rooms apart looking for cigarettes, but it appeared that he would have to get his own, unless anyone else in the Strife family smoked.

_Sora doesn't smoke cigarettes, but he's probably on crack, for all I know. _Axel frowned. The twins would be a psychologist's wet dream. One was completely attention-deficit; the other was practically catatonic. Axel was, to put it mildly, disturbed by the entire situation. Winning over a family of complete nutters was not something he had had in mind.

_At least I have somewhere to stay, _he thought, trying to pull himself out of his shameful self-pity. _Some people don't have even that._ The thought was helpful for several seconds until thunders shook the city once again.

"Jesus Christ," Axel muttered, rolling back into his pillow and pulling the blankets tightly around his body.

* * *

Axel knew the time before he knew where he was. The digital clock beside his lumpy mattress glowed dimly in the darkness, occasionally illuminated by crackles of lightening.

_5:01. _The time looked like a ratio to him; five Strifes against one soul collector. Or five continents (_how many continents are there? Oh, fuck it, there are five in my book_) against one soul collector. Or five billion people against one soul collector. _I need to learn the fucking statistics of this whacked-out country. How many people live on the planet? How many people die every day? How many people are up in Heaven right now?_

"Sleep well?"

Axel looked up and nearly shrieked. Standing in the corner, like the demented old man he was, Ansem looked like a serial killer. True to fashion, he was suddenly lit by a flash of lightening, accompanied by a huge boom of thunder that shook Axel down to his very newly-existing bones.

"What are you doing here?" Axel hissed, completely forgetting to sound nonchalant and cool, a front he had always tried to keep up. "Get out of my room! I could be indecent, for all you know!" Ansem chuckled. "I always knew you were a lech," the redhead declared. "Always. I always knew it."

"Calm down, Axel," Ansem said with a smile. "I'm only here to see how you're doing. I see you've found yourself a family to stay with. You're very lucky."

"Yeah, I'm just great." Axel paused, waiting to hear if anyone in the house knew Ansem had broken in, or floated in, or…whatever he did. Luckily, it was completely silent. "Why are you here? I'm doing fine – "

"You burned your hand," Ansem said pointedly.

Axel glanced down and was aware of the pain again. "Oh, that." He lifted his palm to examine it again; no blisters, thankfully, but it was red and swollen, and increasingly uncomfortable. "I touched – uhh, the side of a pudding pot."

Ansem frowned. "Are you doing well? Are you learning compassion yet?"

"Yeah, tons of compassion," Axel said dismissively. "It's really interesting Ansem – oh, by the way, the people that I'm living with are out of their minds! The one kid won't even look at me; the other is practically wetting his pants every second. Their older brother hates me and thinks I'm a homeless person, and his wife loves me and thinks I'm a homeless person; not to mention, there's some weird mystery lady living in the house and I have no idea who she is!" He took a deep breath and glared at Ansem, whose lips were curled up in the ghost of a smile. "What's your problem?"

"That's the most you've ever said to me," Ansem pointed out.

Axel stayed silent. After several long seconds, the older man sighed and rubbed his forehead. "If you're trying to make a statement with your silence, you are failing. You are acting like a petulant child. You are lucky to even have a roof over your head."

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Axel muttered before shutting his mouth tightly again.

Ansem looked at him as if to say, _well, you just proved my point._ "I hope you learn to become grateful for the things you have."

"I don't have anything," Axel retorted. "You're not making any sense."

The older spirit looked at him somberly. "Look at your palm," he said quietly.

Axel huffed and leaned forward, pushing his hand into the glow provided by the nightlight. He blinked, confused, and then tentatively reached out to touch his palm. _Nothing_. It was smooth, dry – painless. The burn was gone.

When he looked up, Ansem was too.

* * *

"Axel?"

"Huh?" The bedroom door opened several inches and Tifa peered in. The young redhead emerged from the pile of blankets, sleep-deprived and messy-haired, and obviously annoyed at being awoken so early. The clock read 7:13 am. He suppressed a groan and looked back over to the young woman, who was still in her pajamas.

Almost guiltily, she said, "I'm making breakfast for Sora and Roxas…do you want anything?"

_A cigarette, god, yes,_ Axel's brain cried. He was beginning to feel desperate. "I'll just have whatever everyone else is having."

"No allergies?"

"Nah." He briefly considered the possibility, but it seemed stupid for him to suddenly gain an intolerance of anything (other than human beings) when he had such a short time on Earth. "Thanks."

She smiled at him before pulling the door shut. Once she was out of sight, Axel quickly pulled his hand from beneath the covers and looked at it again. Even in the morning light, without confusion and sleep clouding his vision, he could tell that the burn was completely gone. He let out a sigh of relief and refused to wonder about its strange disappearance. _Who cares? _he thought._ It's gone and now everyone can forget about it, especially me._

His thoughts briefly lingered on Ansem's weird behavior the night before – obviously, he was out of his mind; Axel's clearer, (he thought) more intelligent human-alive brain could easily comprehend this. _Why didn't I see it before? The man eats sea-salt ice cream. Everyone I know is insane._

Axel focused on the word of the day – food, followed closely by cigarette – and dragged himself out of bed, practically crawling into the bathroom, hunched over like an old man. After running a brush through his hair (which looked like crap, he had to admit, but _kind of_ sexy, he supposed, which was better than nothing) and brushing his teeth with some strange organic stuff he found in the drawer, Axel headed downstairs. He wanted nothing more than to smoke and watch television all day – maybe all month. _I could learn a lot about compassion from soap operas, or maybe America's Funniest Home Videos. _As he contemplated the life lessons of reality television, Axel forced himself down the stairs, yawning widely, and walked into the kitchen. Tifa was cooking bacon at the stove; Sora, Roxas, and Cloud, all dressed for the day, were sitting around the table, eating pancakes.

"What's this one?" Sora was scribbling in a notebook, which had a syrup stain on the top. He looked up at Roxas.

"It's nine and a third," Roxas told him. "X equals nine and a third."

Sora went back to his homework, humming under his breath.

"How much bacon do you guys want?" Tifa looked up and caught sight of Axel, who immediately looked away, as if the wall was the most interesting thing in the world and he wanted nothing more than to stare at it forever. "Go on and sit down, Axel. Do you want bacon?"

"Sure." Tifa beamed at him.

He sat down at the edge of the table, closest to Tifa, careful to avoid touching either Sora or Cloud with his bare legs, which, as Axel had realized, were nearly freakish in their length. Self-consciously, Axel slid his feet beneath the chair, keeping his knees together. He was wearing an old pair of Cloud's boxers (something that was extremely embarrassing) and an old shirt Tifa had found – if anyone had seen him, they would have thought he had spent the night at Cloud's and had nothing to wear in the morning, which was somewhat true. _I can imagine the field day Demyx would have with that, _Axel thought, inwardly grinning. _What a dumb guy. His imagination is too fucking big. _Still, Axel couldn't help but make up the most obvious scene: the counsel, sitting before him, asking him about what he did during his month of life. _Oh, I slept over at a guy's house and he cheated on me with his wife! Ha. How's that for compassion? _He smirked. It would never happen, of course, for more than one obvious reason (including that Axel wasn't into that, and that Cloud probably wasn't either) but it didn't stop it from being any less funny to him. _Why do I get the idea that having sex with Cloud is like fucking a dead person?_ Various scenes flashed through Axel's mind, all of them making him want to gauge out his eyes. _Okay, ew._

"What's this one?" Sora poked at his paper with his pencil and frowned. Roxas stared down at his cereal, swirling around the cinnamon-dusted milk with his spoon; his eyes were far away and unfocused, seeing what wasn't there. "Roxas? Roxas! Hello! What does _x_ equal?"

"It's…uh…six." Sora eyed him suspiciously. "I'm not kidding. It's six." With a shrug, Sora dutifully copied down the number. Axel surreptitiously glanced over and noticed that Sora had extremely bad handwriting. And he curled his nines on the bottom, unlike normal people. Axel immediately traced a nine on his hand, just to make sure his was just a line – yes. Normal. It was.

Tifa put down a plate, piled at least two inches high with food, in front of the redhead and sat down next to Cloud, smiling. "So, how did everyone sleep? Axel, how was your room?"

"It was good," he said, unsure of whether he should use a fork to eat his bacon or not. Sora was just putting the pieces into his mouth, but then again, he was obviously a monkey, so Axel ignored his standards of etiquette, and pushed his bacon to the side until Roxas or Cloud had any.

Tifa smiled warmly. "Good. That's the best room in the house, actually. All our guests want to stay there."

_What other choice do they have?_ Axel kept his mouth shut.

From upstairs, music drifted; he could hardly hear the words, but it was definitely audible. Cloud muttered something and stabbed at his pancakes. Axel stared. _He obviously has some rage issues he needs to confront._

"You left your music on again," Sora said, obviously.

"Why do you listen to that horrible band?" Cloud asked, although it was a rhetorical question.

Roxas frowned, although it was almost imperceptible – but it was there. "Bright Eyes isn't horrible."

"So you say," Cloud replied tartly.

"Drop it," Tifa ordered. "Everyone, just shut up and eat your bacon." They all complied.

Several math problems later, Axel's bacon was still untouched, and he still wanted a cigarette. Badly. _I'm really not making any progress on this compassion thing. _So far, the only thing he had learned was that Sora could be a boy's name, and that anyone named Cloud probably had a _stormy_ attitude. He hid his smile and choked back giggles. _Man, I'm so good at this joke thing._

"So, are you guys going to be home at a reasonable hour tonight?" Tifa asked. Sora was still hurrying to finish his homework, while Roxas looked over his shoulder and told him the answers.

"Yeah. Oh, can I go over to Riku's this weekend?" Sora made puppy-dog eyes at her. "His parents are going out of town and he's got tickets for a comedy club and – "

"What, so it's like a date?" Roxas waggled his eyebrows at his twin, the first visible sign of life that Axel had witnessed from the teenager. Frankly, it was appalling.

Sora looked gravely at the blonde. "No, Roxas, it's like a man-date. Those actually exist, you know. Like how girls go on girl-dates? I read it in a magazine – "

"You are really incriminating yourself here, stupid," Roxas said, eating a piece of bacon (with his fork). Axel promptly attacked his own.

Sora snorted. "Like you care!" The blonde boy shrugged and chewed his bacon thoughtfully. "Are you going anywhere this weekend?"

"What do you think?" his twin muttered.

Axel glanced up. Roxas' thin eyebrows were coming together so violently it looked like a bad car accident; his face was lit with a blush that made every single one of his freckles stand out. He tilted his head so his bangs fell into his eyes. _He's a little prettier than Larxene, I guess, _Axel mused before snapping out of it. _Well, it's true! I'm only looking._

Tifa frowned concernedly, but tore her eyes away to glance at Axel, who was gaping at the teenager. "Anyway…yeah, you can go over to Riku's if you want."

Sora grinned and shoveled his last pancake into his mouth. "Cool! Thanks, Tifa."

"Isn't it time for school already?" Cloud muttered.

"Speak up, darling, I hope you realize that none of us understand you," she said breezily. He scowled. Sora and Roxas scooted back their chairs (Axel noticed that Roxas' previous look had disappeared to a blank one, yet again) and walked out of the room. Tifa stood up and left as well, humming to herself, leaving Axel and Cloud alone.

They pointedly ignored each other, until finally Axel asked, "So, er…where do you work?" _Time to get rolling on the compassion thing here._

Cloud glanced up and attempted a glare. "No."

Axel stared. _No? I don't think I asked a yes or no question, asshole! Sounds like _you_ need to be sent to Earth for thirty days to learn compassion._

The blonde man must have noticed Axel's affronted look, because he sighed and leaned forward. "Let me make this short," he said in a low voice. "I don't like you. I don't want to stay in this house. I don't want you around my family."

"I'm not a serial killer or anything!"

"Yeah, as if you would tell the truth," Cloud snorted.

"But it is the truth!" Axel was indignant. He opened his mouth to add a scathing insult, but then, with effort, closed it. He could hear Ansem in his ear: _You are lucky to even have a roof over your head. _He bit the inside of his cheek and sighed. "Fine. Whatever. I…uh…I guess I don't blame you." _Lie! Oh well. I'll do something nice to make up for it later._

He eyed the dirty plates around the table before looking pointedly back at Cloud. "Are you done?" he asked in a way that made it obvious he was better than the blonde man.

Cloud looked up and scowled. Axel was pleased with himself for noticing; the day before, he was sure he wouldn't have noticed the change in expression. "Yes." Axel hadn't known that one word could hold so much contempt.

After gathering the plates and stacking them neatly in the sink, the redhead absently scratched at his hand and waited for Tifa to come back. Obviously, her husband was not interested in making conversation with a serial killer.

The equivalent of an earthquake hurried down the stairs, and Sora leapt into the kitchen, landing nearly in the opposite hallway.

"I think that's a new record," he said matter-of-factly.

Cloud tilted his head to the side. "Maybe. Yesterday you only got as far as the fridge."

Axel deliberately looked away. If Cloud was going to smile, he was not interested. He would probably go insane with disbelief.

Sora adjusted his backpack and looked between the two men. Obviously, he had no grasp of what an 'uncomfortable silence' was, but it still stretched between them, making Axel want to leave. _Stay, go, what do I want? I hate being alive._

Finally, Sora piped up, "So, how old are you?"

Axel self-consciously reached up and touched his cheek. The night before, he had looked at himself in the mirror – his skin, the rise and fall of his chest – and wondered, _Why do I look this way?_ He didn't have genetics to explain his red hair; he didn't have a reason why he looked young while Luxord did not. Axel supposed that this questioning was all a part of being a human. It didn't stop him from resenting his newfound doubt, and the man that had caused it.

"I'm…twenty," Axel eventually replied. Whether or not this was true didn't seem to matter; Sora completely believed him.

"Are you going to college?" Sora pulled off his shoe and then put it back on, although Axel had no idea why.

"Actually, yeah," he said, glancing towards Cloud and smirking. "I'm studying to be a professional serial killer, with a minor in homelessness."

Cloud scowled, but Sora started laughing. _A sense of humor obviously skips a generation in the Strife family_, Axel thought, unable to keep a grin off his face. When Roxas came back into the room, toting his own backpack, Axel mentally added, _Or Sora is just a genetic mistake and everyone else has a stick in their ass. I wonder what their parents are like?_ He wasn't sure whether he actually cared or not; disconcerted, he pushed the thought from his mind.

"Do you have your MetroCard?" Roxas patted his own jean pocket as he spoke.

Sora nodded exuberantly. "Yep! I checked and everything." At Roxas' skeptical look, he repeated, "I checked! I swear!" Before Roxas could express any further doubt, Sora turned to Cloud and said, "I need money for lunch. Hurry up! We're gonna be late!"

Cloud rolled his eyes but reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. What kind of a person walked around with a wallet at eight in the morning, Axel didn't know, but Cloud obviously did, because he was that person.

He ignored Sora's fidgeting and said calmly, "I only have a five dollar bill. One of you is going to have to get money from Tifa." He glanced towards Axel, who raised his hands in defeat.

"I'm broke," he announced. Even if he had been given the courtesy of money, he wouldn't be lending it out.

Sora leapt forward and grabbed the money out of Cloud's hand. "Sorry Rox, but I promised I'd meet Kairi!" At Roxas' unenthusiastic frown, he added, "It's not like you're going to get lost! See you at school!" He pranced out of the house, shutting the front door behind him.

There was silence, until Tifa shouted from upstairs, "Cloud, can you come here for a sec?"

He looked between Axel and Roxas with narrowed eyes, as if Axel was going to menace the boy in some way, and reluctantly made his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs. There was a significant lapse in conversation now that most of the family was gone, and the remaining Strife obviously had no interest in reviving it. He crossed the kitchen and retrieved a plastic cup from the cupboard before turning the faucet on. Roxas was obviously ignoring Axel, and though this was not news to the redhead, it seemed to open up a world of possibility. He wondered how many irreverent things he could say before Roxas got off his high horse and punched Axel in the face. Or maybe he would just do that in the first place. It was simply a mystery.

But while Roxas was slightly turned away, focused on his glass of water… Axel still hadn't forgotten his absolute need for a cigarette. He also hadn't ruled out the possibility of Roxas being a smoker, which would be extremely convenient, except that Roxas would probably not even give him a cigarette if his life depended on it.

And as the teenager continued his crusade of not-paying-attention, Axel leaned in closer, nose working like a rabbit, and sniffed. Roxas certainly didn't smell like an ashtray. Of course, he was still at least a foot away, maybe if he scooted a little closer and took deeper breaths –

"What are you doing?" Roxas stared with wide eyes and took a step backwards. Axel nearly fell over, which would have been even more embarrassing.

The appalled look on Roxas' face just begged to be laughed at. "Smelling your hair," he said with a grin. It had actually smelled like coconut, though Axel wasn't sure why he was so surprised. Maybe because he had expected Roxas to smell like a robot. "I'm trying to figure out whether you smoke or not," he added in case Roxas decided to repeat this exchange to Cloud. He doubted that the older man would be sympathetic to a stranger sniffing his impressionable younger brother's hair for no reason.

"I don't," Roxas said shortly.

"Well, that's very helpful," Axel said. _Goddammit_.

Roxas rolled his eyes, but any further lack-of-conversation was interrupted by Tifa coming into the kitchen and saying cheerfully, "Here's your money, Rox! Have a good day at school."

He accepted the crumpled five-dollar-bill and nodded. "Yeah. See you later." He didn't even dignify Axel with a glare as he left the kitchen, and then the house.

"Go get dressed," Tifa ordered at once. Axel stared at her. "We're going out. I got you some old clothes of Cloud's and they're up in your room, but we're going to get you some new ones."

"We?" He could just envision shopping with Cloud: Axel holding up a shirt to his body and asking, "How does this look?" and Cloud saying, "I hate everyone." And then Tifa would bake muffins.

Luckily, Tifa said, "You and me, not Cloud. He has work anyway. Go get dressed."

Axel shrugged but agreed. Maybe getting some fresh air would be good for his lungs. How would he know, anyway?

* * *

"Please, Tifa, _please_," Axel begged. "I have to have them."

Tifa frowned deeply. "Smoking is vile, Axel. I don't want to pay for your addiction."

Usually Axel wouldn't have resorted to pleading pathetically for cigarettes, but this was an emergency. He was beginning to feel ill. "I'll pay you back," he promised. "I haven't had one in _days_."

She grudgingly pulled the wallet from her pants pocket – Tifa was not a handbag girl, as Axel had noticed – and said, "You don't have an ID, do you?"

He gave her a withering look. "No. But I'm twenty one." He reminded himself that he had told Sora he was twenty, but that that was just a small detail. They probably wouldn't have a family conference about his birthdate or anything. He added another 'please' for good measure, and Tifa finally dug out her ID and asked the man behind the counter for a pack of Marlboros.

They had been shopping all morning, mostly at the Salvation Army, before finally coming to a store Axel didn't remember the name of to buy underwear. Tifa was remarkably unembarrassed about this, and Axel found that he had been, too. He wondered how many people shoplifted underwear because they were too humiliated to pay for it. _Probably not many_, he had conceded, but it was still a fun idea to entertain.

As the cashier rung up their things, Axel spotted a desk calendar – just a tiny one, apparently with pictures of nature included. He quickly grabbed it, along with a red Sharpie from a huge container of them, and handed both items to Tifa.

"Please?" He stuck out his lower lip. "I won't beg again."

She seemed to be much more benevolent towards objects that wouldn't give him lung cancer, and happily paid for them.

As they left the store with plans to head over to do some more grocery shopping, Axel ignored his nearly all-consuming need for a cigarette and reached into the bag, pulling out the calendar and pen. "What was yesterday?" he asked Tifa, who was walking slightly ahead of him and rearranging her many bags comfortably.

"It was a Tuesday," she said.

"Uh huh."

She glanced back and raised her eyebrows. "Tuesday the 27th. Of May. I presume you know what year you're in?"

"No," he said to be contrary. Axel crossed off the date with a gigantic X and flattened the calendar down so it would fit in his back pocket.

* * *

AN: Do you guys hate me? I kind of like this chapter actually. Even if the ending is TOTAL CRAP. GOD CHRIST ALMIGHTY.

Also, please let it be known that **I do not think it's funny to shoplift underwear**. Shoplifting is serious business and just because Axel is an ignorant fuckwad doesn't mean you have to be. I shoplifted once when I was like 8, and it was for an ugly pair of earrings from Limited Two. So learn your lesson guys, DON'T FUCKING SHOPLIFT OR I SWEAR TO GOD YOU WILL GET DESTROYED.

In other news, you should go see Spring Awakening. I would take you myself if I had any money, but we've been blowing it all on seeing Spring Awakening. I will be seeing it for the fourth time in two months next Saturday. I'm sick. (note: this is not an opportunity for you to say you hate Spring Awakening, this is not going to turn into a wankfest and you will get a lot of angry angst chapters if you say you hate it. Be forewarned.)

I LOVE YOU GUYS XOXO


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